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NICODEMUS 



BY 



O R A C R SHAW 1 ) U K K 



Illustrated by FREDERICK C. GORDON 



Boston 
•flrtiia I3ubli8l)ing Compang 

COPLEY SQUARE 
1895 



V. 



10 1896' W^^ 




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CoprmciiTicD, 1895, 

UY 

Chai'I'. Smaw Duff. 
All i-iKlits reserved. 




v/j rtvKD now was come that last great day of the 
feast ; 
The golden glory of a rising sun 
Decked roof and dome, and edged with lus- 
trous line 

The gently swaying palms. Some slanting rays 
The hillside caught, to weave in spectrum looms 
Bright broidered vestments for the pale myrtle 
And fragrant citron flower. The modest moon, 
Intent on flight, had left some shreds of mist 
With which she had draped her silver horn ; this 
Bolder orb, with small regard for others' 
Gaze, swept first the valley clear, then poured 
His wealth of blazing light down Kedron's plain. 




II. 

HE long white road made liere and there a 
turn 
To shun a jutting slope, or join itself 
To share awhile the river's graceful curve, 
Then stretched its dusty way toward Bethany. 
Some early comers gathered to the feast, 
Kinsfolk and friends, and came with reverent minds 
And faithful hearts to pay again their sacred vows. 
The men discussed at length the olive yield 
And what perchance might prove success or no 
In some new venture to enrich the vine ; 
While mothers backward turned, content to fit 
Their lingering steps to pace of little feet. 



IIT. 




ITHIN" the city's walls unusnal stir 
Begins, to meet the day's unusual need. 
Long lines of furbished booths a jiirring mass 
Of color make, while awnings UKjve like 
wings 

Of huge bright birds that ne'er alight. Some pens 
Hold tethered lambs that patient wait beside 
Their dams their unknown fate to meet. Distinct 
From harsher cries, one hears the soft round sound 
Of cooing doves whose gentle lives will end 
In fitting death — as ransom for our sins. 





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IV. 
^Lf^ MOTLEY crowd that fills the streets and 
squares 



-^'ST^j-'i.G'^Kg-^ Awaits the Levites' call. The strong bring f)\it 
i^^3^j Their maimed and halt, and haste to claim 
for them 

An upper place upon the Temple steps, 
And there, with artful skill, to well dispose 
Their loathsome charms ; while in and out the crowd. 
The busy venders hawk unsavory wares 
Or meet with ready wit some idle jest; 
Some graver men exchange more earnest thought, 
And (^[uestion if the Nazarene will speak 
To-day ; or tell with awe some wondrous sign 
The man has done to fit his wondrous words. 



V. 
OR months he has roamed the Galilean towns 
And tanght the peo})le there, and healed their 

sick, 
And even hack to life called some that died ! — 
At least so runs the tale. He earns his bread 
In sweat of daily toil, and still, they say, 
He claims to be the Christ ! — of course 'tis false, 
For when Messiah comes, He'll come as King. 
And yet 'tis strange what gives the man his power 






vr. 

jNE night from sleepless bed I rose, aiul went 

To where he lodged, and bade the porter say 

One Nicodemus — ruler — came, and speech 

Would have with him. There was no moon. 

but hosts 

Of stars, and soft, pale glow from shaded lamps 
Made silver light. The air was still, with just 
Enough of life to waft at times a faint 
Sweet oleander scent, and gently float 
Some loosened petals down. I heard no sound, 
But sudden knew another presence near, 



Ami turned to where he stood : one hand held back 

The curtain's fold ; the other clasped a roll. 

No king could gently bear a prouder mien ; 

And when I gracious rose to offer meet 

Respect to one whose words had won for him 

Regard, I strangely felt like loyal slave, 

And almost ...'•' Master ! " trembled on my lips 

A deep, brave look shone in his eyes, as if 

He saw the whole of mankind's needs, yet dared 

To bid him hope, and when he spoke, his words 

And voice seem fitted parts of some great psalm. 



■'■'-''^^•sr'Miijrt,,,.,,,.^,,^^- 







vir. 

'T midnight, once I saw the sea ; each wave 
Uplifted on its crest a silver moon 
Which made the hollows deeper seem ; far off 
In rhythmic measure, 'long the shore, I heard 
The billows die away. His eyes, His voice- 
That midnight sea of licpiid moons, with deep, 
Low music in its lapsing waves, since then 
A single picture in my memory make. 







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VITL 
HE throng soon crowded through the Temple 
gates. 
I foHowed too, and thought, perchance I'll see 
Those eyes antl hear that voice again. Thick 
clouds 

Of incense rise and wrap their vaprous folds 
Around the frieze and through the vaulted dome, 
While blasts of silver horns make (piiver all 
The heated air: long lines of priests attend 
In turn the altar's sacred fire, or pour 
Libations on the steaming pile. The men 
Unceasing wave their myrtle boughs, and hold 
Aloft "the fruit of goodly trees," while priests 
And Levites antiphone the psalm ; then all 
The people join the Hallel's words, and end 
The chant in one tremendous burst of praise. 




IX. 

WAS then lie spoke. I heard that voice 

again. 
iW/^i The Temple hushed its sounds to listen too. 
^^?^ Like forest trees whose leaves expectant 

hang 
And wait the coming breeze, the people stood 
To catch his words. Our father's God, long past 
By Moses spake, and down through all these years 
The Law has been reproof and guide — reproof 
For deeds undone, and guide for deeds to come. 
But this man knew the thirst that parched men's lives, 
A thirst the Law could not assuage. His words, 
Tho' strange, seemed true, and somewhere in my heart 
I felt a stir of newer life — and still 
Perhaps not new, so much as very old. 



X. 

OME closer pressed, as if h's burning words 
Found ready welcome in their waiting hearts. 
The old that sluml)ered there awoke to meet 
Its risen self, alive in newer form, 
Like moths who feel their new-unfolded wines 

Outspread upon the buo^yant air, and think 

A new creation marks the summer day. 

'Tis true the wings that skyward mount are new 

The power is old that bids the wings to fly. 




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XI. 

OT many words lie spoke, nor lingered long, 
For soon among the crowd some murmuring 
Voices broke the spell, and pushing toward 

him 

Came the guard to drag him thence ; but by 
Them all he calmly walked, and out the gate, 
And no man stayed his way. But as he turned 
I looked again into his eyes, and in 
Their depths my soul met his — and then I knew 
In very truth — He was the Son of God. 



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XTI. 




For him. 



E have a law tliat none be judged to death 



Before himself has pled his cause. That day 
I begged the counsel call the Nazarene ; 
The claim he made should win at least respect. 
Alas ! my words had little use, at least 
For me they seemed the tirst faint breath 
With which the spirit's born. He said 'twas like 
The wind, it came and Avent, and no man knew 
From whence or Avhere. I left the council hall 
With deep, exultant hope that what he said 
Was true — and heeded not their taunting cry : 
"■ Go search and see, 
No prophet comes from Galilee." 






LIBRARY OF CONGRE^'o 
II ill III 



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.Mil III .. ., „, y-, 

(915 906 648 4^ 




